Unspoken Truth
by Arashi-Storm-Guardian
Summary: AU : Rookie Ensign Coby Phelps was looking forward to his new life as the newest member of the Crime Investigating Department, but soon he was proven wrong when a global apocalypse rises. ONESHOT.


**Disclaimer : Of course, One Piece is not mine. I'd be a billionaire if I were to have Oda-sensei's brain! X)**

**A/N : This is a fanfic…no, **_**essay**_** that I was required to turn in as homework two months ago. Long story short, low scores and a trolling message from my English teacher. English is not my mother language (which is kinda obvious), so please bear with the flaws of this fanfic~ **

**Also, one question : should I put this as OP/RE (Resident Evil) crossover? Cuz I'm darn lazy to do that. :P Still, enjoy! **

**Warning : Made up surnames. And Coby's mentor being Smoker instead of Garp. Yeah, that's all. False alarm. Hey, I see that chair in your hands. Don't think about throwing it at me – oh darn. *runs***

-AU-

Rookie Ensign Coby Phelps was having the busiest day in his life.

Having been welcomed into the Department of Crime Investigation with open arms several weeks ago, he thought life in the department which 'kicks the donkey's other name'. as quoted by majority of the police headquarters, would be easy and leisure. He had always fantasized his new life as the rookie ensign of the CID who'd grab a polystrene cup of hot, bitter coffee, leaf through a few documents while waiting for his ordered pizza to come, and if he was lucky, get sorted into a team immediately when the department received a peculiar case or two, and give his best shot in collecting various clues, piecing everything together and lock the culprit's wrists in a pair of handcuffs.

Which, by the way, is the common dream of every police officer.

However, his fantasy was put to an end when Coby was thrown into a tightly-packed schedule (he still didn't get how more than 30 activities could fit into 14 hours, with half of them requiring the art of multitasking). He didn't know if it was his fate as an ensign or a rookie (or maybe both) that had landed him in such drastic conditions, but he sure as hell blamed his bright pink hair when his mentor, a feared commodore who went by the nickname 'Smoker' (yeah geniuses, he smokes. Not just any cigarette – that guy favors _cigars_. And high-classed ones too), practically barked at him to do extra laps around the field for 'having such an unruly and undisciplined appearance'.

Yeah right, like Coby had the choice to select his hair color. His mother donned natural pink hair for goodness' sake! As if that hair color wouldn't get passed down to her offspring! The ensign seriously wondered about Commodore Smoker's knowledge regarding Biology. Either he failed that subject during his younger years, or he was plainly accusing Coby for dyeing his hair pink.

Personally, the ensign voted for the former choice as a form of revenge (yeah right, like a _rookie_ like him could say that in his mentor's face. Who knows what Commodore Smoker will do when he goes ballistic?).

Right now, Coby busied himself in loading all the weapons from the small storeroom in the CID's main quarters. Most of his comrades were out to Mock Town, which was actually a city of great importance to the field of Biology. Why it was called Mock Town, Coby didn't know, but he cared about the reason as much as he cared about the mysterious mould present in the fridge of the department.

There were a few people in the room, including Commodore Smoker. The white-haired man was busy polishing his favorite guns (surprisingly they were old-fashioned colt revolvers), a small line of shiny bullets standing neatly on the desk. The room's only television was switched on, so Coby and the others could watch the news.

Unsurprisingly, the news feed was showing Mock Town. On the screen, an explosion could be seen occuring, with bright light demolishing anything within its 5-meter radius. Thick columns of black smoke billowed skywards, obscuring the bright heavenly body known as the sun from the camera's view. Strangely, the city was void of shrill screams of fright and despair, which made Coby to cock a slender (and bright) eyebrow. He also couldn't help but notice that he was the only one paying attention to the news; the remaining occupants didn't seem to give a damn as they still resumed their respective work.

Coby had a strange feeling that his comrades knew more about the current state of Mock City than he and the rest of the world did. He started noticing the symptoms during his training last week, when Commodore Smoker was forced to end the day's training session earlier due to an emergency breakout in Mock City. The guy had hitched the message had looked tense and nervous, and Coby remembered seeing color flushing from the face of his cigar-smoking mentor. At first he was awfully relieved that he wouldn't have to endure the Sparta-like training for 4 more hours, but now, Coby wished he had investigated the reason for the commodore's sudden leave.

"This is Reporter Kaya from CNN who's bringing you live feed of the mysterious happenings in Mock City," a soft but clear voice pierced through the noisy atmosphere, as the camera was focused on a pretty blonde with wide brown eyes. Despite the situation, she still had the mood to smile lightly at the camera.

"An explosion had just occurred behind me, which happens to be the west suburb of the city," the reporter continued without a bat of her long, well-curved eyelashes. "Two buildings had collapsed as a result. The number of survivors has yet to exceed 4500, which is quite astonishing as Mock City is known for having a population of 2.5 million people…"

Coby would love to get to know more about Mock City had a certain commodore not switch off the television. The pink-haired ensign swallowed his protests and lowered the bundled guns to the floor carefully. After ensuring the weapons were unharmed, he let out a sigh of relief and paused to wipe sweat from his forehead.

"Everyone, grab your kits. We're leaving for Mock City," ordered Commodore Smoker, his beloved revolvers already tucked into the leather holsters on both sides of his waist and loaded with ammo. Everyone including Coby responded as enthusiastically as they could, their hands hovering near their foreheads for a few seconds as a form of salute before hurrying about. During the commotion, Coby let a small smile light up his face.

He was definitely ready for his first mission.

Too bad he was in for an awful surprise.

Coby had never expected to see so many people gathering around a kilometer away from the suburbs of Mock City. All The paths had been closed off, courtesy of the National Military Force. Men clad in dark green military outfits barked out orders at their troops, who looked like clusters of bushes huddling together. Kaya the reporter was busy rattling away the latest events in front of her cameraman, who was _obviously_ holding a video camera.

Commodore Smoker led the small group past the camps set up by the military force outside the barricades of the west suburbs after exchanging a few words with whoever was in charge. The bright orange plastic obstacles were removed temporarily for the members of the CID to pass, before they were arranged back in their original positions by the guards.

There was an iron fence surrounding Mock City. The walls were at least 10 feet high, with barbed wires circling on the top to prevent outsiders from climbing over. In front of the set of heavy-looking doors, Commodore Smoker set his kit down on the ground and started rummaging through it.

"Get into your gear and check your stuff one last time," he commanded, his cold eyes giving everyone a brief glance before stopping on poor Coby, who couldn't help but flinch when he detected the icy gaze. A few sharp salutes greeted the commodore before everyone started taking out their protective gear and began strapping thick pads over their bodies and around their limbs.

Coby copied his seniors' actions as quickly as he could. After strapping the bulletproof vest around his upper body and buckling the strap of his hard helmet, the ensign zipped his kit close and slung it on his right shoulder, since his M-16 took up his other one.

Commodore Smoker nodded seriously at his subordinates before gesturing at Coby to come closer. Puzzled, the rookie did what he was told, his legs shaking lightly as he walked. His mentor waited until he was standing right in front of him, before he started talking in his usual rough baritone, coated with venom more poisonous than Coby could imagine.

"Rookie," he began, the glint in his light grey eyes turning colder than the sharpest winds in Antartica. "I don't know why the hell you chose this crucial moment to transfer to this department, so I just want to let you know that whatever happens from here onwards will be mind-blowing. What we are going to encounter for hours, or even _days_ to come, is strictly kept to ourselves only. Also, there is a high chance that you won't make out of here alive, so be prepared."

Coby could only stare at Commodore Smoker with wide eyes. He was sure his jaw was unhinged as well, and he couldn't blame himself for looking so undignified. Said man just smirked coldly before turning his back on the ensign and unlocked the doors with a small rusty key. When he pulled a door away from its position, a strong wiff of putrid, acidic smell which surprisingly reeked of death hit everyone's nostrils, which made their eyes water out of irritation.

A burly subordinate had stepped forward to aid Commodore Smoker in opening the other door, which only made the smell stronger. Coby was sure the contents inside his stomach were starting to stir quite uneasily, and quickly pushed down the bitter taste of bile when he felt he was going to throw up. A few men pretty much shared the same awful experience of torn between choking on the vomit or swallowing it down forcefully. Still, the majority of them seemed to be pretty used to the unpleasant odour filling their nostrils, which made Coby wonder if they had paid Mock City too much visits to last a lifetime.

Still, Coby would never forget what he was seeing with his own eyes.

Fire licked every inch of the fallen structures which were once skyscrapers, towers and all the other buildings present in this never-ending inferno. Vehicles were piled on top of each other, having gotten reduced to charred useless metal. Dust and debris were swept off the blackened and bloodstained ground, constantly blurring everyone's visions with the presence of the impurities. While Coby and some of his comrades had busied themselves in rubbing their eyes, Commodore Smoker remained calm and stoic against the fiery duststorm hurled in their direction.

What truly made Coby's breath hitch at his throat was the highlight of the day.

About 100 meters away from the group, a few dark silhouettes shuffled around with the speed of awfully ancient tortoises. Their backs were hunched like tired old men, their legs dragged their sagging bodies like bags of heavy lead, and they seemed to be wandering around aimlessly. Somewhere in the city, another explosion was triggered, which attracted the attention of the figures. They started moaning in a gruesome way simultaneously, as if to cheer for whoever was dealing extra damage to the ruins which was once known as Mock City.

Rookie Ensign Coby Phelps just stared. He didn't bother to form coherent sentences anymore. His mind was in too much turmoil to be able to think properly. From behind him, he heard an awed 'holy other name of faeces', and vaguely wondered if the man uttering it was afraid of Commodore Smoker's wrath if he actually cussed.

The aforementioned man smirked once more and pulled out another cigar from his vest pocket. He then proceeded to light it with a small lighter and took a long drag from the classy thick roll of tobacco before puffing out a thin trail of white smoke in sadistic pleasure, stormy eyes already showing a rare emotion known as excitement.

"Welcome to hell, boys."

**-AU-**

**P.S. Bad? Worse than several hundred pigeons crapping on you and stepping on dog poo on a hot day? Drop a review please! I accept anything, even a rotten egg in my face! **


End file.
